Free Meal lyrics

[Intro: Hopsin]
Horsesh*t G.A.N.G. is amateurs
For real, like from a real artist's perspective, they are f*cking amateurs
They have no idea what they're doing
They just rap fast and think it’s dope

[Verse 1: Hopsin]
You're now about to feel the wrath of Hopsin, Dizzy Wright and Benton
Your careers was ended the moment that I was mentioned
This rap sh*t is my religion
Sorry Crooked I but sending Horsesh*t in to diss us wasn't a wise decision
It's a setback for sure
Not only on they weak careers but it's a setback on yours
So step back, endure the rain, the suffer and pain
You want a problem?
Here's a death match, it's war
f*ck Horsesh*t Gang they straight lame, all four suck
I put 500k on this battle, you put yours up?
You poor bums couldn't afford a sweater from Nordstrom's
After this sh*t is finished, n*ggas better reward us
My girl's 'gram has more likes than yours does
How does it feel to have never been on a tour bus?
It's probably similar to alcohol on a sore cut
You n*ggas suck; in other words n*ggas, you're f*cked
You really thought we wouldn't stop you? Please
f*ck you mean? We'll puncture you and watch you bleed
See I patrol the game daily like the cops do streets
I'm too beast, n*ggas we will rock you; Queen
For real, it's like your buzz is invisible, dang
You don't even have residuals, game
From your predictable lane
Your song sucks so you ain't getting no fame
Nobody even knows you n*gga's individual names
[Verse 2: Jarren Benton]
Y'all done stepped in some horse sh*t
I'll turn you horseshoe n*ggas to corpses
For a dollar and a snack I bet they blow a horse di*k
I ain't want to murk them but f*ck it, you n*ggas pushed me
I'd let you f*ck my wife but I'm sorry, she don't like pus*y
I'm bending corners, let you broke n*ggas ride along
What bunch of f*cking gangsters, but they can't afford a firearm
I know you need guap, take a moment to breathe Doc
Bet they do the drive-by on a bike with a slingshot
Y'all basic, lookin' like you need bathing
Call me cause my grandmama got room in the basement
You could never sh*t on me, you should lend your b*tch to me
We stock you up with canned goods and give you free publicity
500K but we doin' this one for charity
Stackin' bread like I'm Sara Lee, you should be very scared of me
Fire Marshall Bill, you faggots can get extinguished
On Sway lookin' like some broke R&B singers
What you? Ron, Bobby, Ricky and Mike?
Must be smokin' that hard and sniffin' that white
See this rap sh*t ain't workin', you n*ggas should get a f*ckin' job
Nah seriously, n*ggas get a f*ckin' job
I feel bad for any man that can't afford a meal
Tell Mike Trampe to learn how to count a half a mil'
(What about that half a million though?
Ah listen man, I'm already workin' on it, I got about 225 right now, Sway, so we can come up with the other 225, we're ready to go)
Houston to Horsesh*t, come back down to Earth
Ain't you n*ggas in your 40s like this rappin' gon' work?
Aye your b*tch said she tired of hearin' them lame rap dreams
Pay a bill, n*gga, sh*t is not happening
Damn, homie
In high school you was the man, homie
f*ck happened to you?
b*tch I'm back in the booth and I'm spittin' it for the homeless
Serial killer, I murder all my opponents
Let me break it down, don't think y'all n*ggas gon' make it
You got a better chance at gettin' hit by a spaceship
But I'ma pray for 'em, dear Lord, please bless the bum n*ggas
I know they're starvin', please help 'em out with a lunch, would you?
Drop 'em all, linoleum, who gassed 'em like petroleum?
Get murked by me, Dizz and that n*gga from Nickelodeon
Dame said he hirin', we need some custodians
I bet your label f*ck you in the ass with no petroleum
Mr. Benton, I'll abort you lames
Can somebody spare some change for the Horseshoe G.A.N.G.?
b*tch
[Interlude: Jarren Benton and Dizzy Wright]
Look man, I didn't wanna do it to y'all n*ggas, man
I liked y'all n*ggas, you know what I'm sayin'?
But goddamn, y'all pushed us, man
We didn't even call your name
We know y'all n*ggas ain't got money
Your goddamn Motown, Philly, suit wearin' ass n*gga
Old goddamn Boyz II Men lookin' n*gga
MC Brain, goddamn tied shirt wearin' ass n*gga
Old goddamn R&B singer lookin' mothaf*ckas
Man, aye f*ck this sh*t, Dizzy
You n*ggas done f*cked up
I'ma light the dizzy, OG
I'ma let my lil' n*gga get you
Bad career move, n*gga
I ain't even wastin' no time, we got canned goods, n*gga
We gon' help feed y'all n*ggas, let's go!

[Verse 3: Dizzy Wright]
So you the f*ck n*ggas that want it first
My stomach hurts so somebody finna get sh*tted on
My vision long and I coulda seen this from a mile away
You n*ggas is endin' your careers, we comin' up out the gate
Now you can't escape, the nerve of this man
I'm El Chapo sendin' these Donald Trumps their surgery plans
Emergency land
You can tell we the current demand
Y'all ain't hungry, you b*tches thirsty, here's a courtesy can
You n*ggas obviously not hungry enough, it's tough to see it
So how can you believe a crooked eye certainly can?
Yo f*ck a Horsesh*t Gang., this a burglary
We studied n*ggas thoroughly and I promise y'all won't make it this far
Let me purge, you pus*y n*ggas shoulda just stayed in the car
I'm breakin' laws, jaws 'til faces get taken apart
I'm appalled, you f*ckboys done stepped out of your league
Y'all ain't makin' no moves so it's awkward you wanna battle with speed
Now what the game need? Not another offbrand Shady group
Half a mil'? Y'all label got you out here eatin' baby food
f*ck it, now I'm your necks, y'all borin' so you're formin'
Formulatin' checks, I heard the diss, but ain't nobody take the bet
We crowded around the mic, playin' games with your life
All four of y'all sound alike, we blowin' up like dynamite
n*gga that's a high explosion
We gettin' booked for the same shows that y'all was tryna open
Homie knowin' that I'm flowin'
Stop it with the foolishness, middle finger up
I'm screamin' f*ck your group of duplicates
I'm on my King Kunta sh*t
Ready for the battle, Shady n*gga better skidaddle
You're in someone else's shadow, guarantee this make 'em fragile
Cause I'm an active activist
Y'all got a platform with no fan base
No hate but how mothaf*ckin' sad is this?
How's this happenin', aren't you n*ggas concerned
Y'all sound like every f*ckin' fast rapper that I've ever heard
But I ain't mad at all, I checked out y'all catalog
Haters of the trap music but signed a deal with a trap involved
I'm just a n*gga that tatted over his battle scars
You n*ggas fallin' off so you don't got no room to call nobody soft
You not the coldest
You tight, but sh*t, my tight is claustrophobic
You don't know it, 'til the side effects show you can't control it
Now it's in the open, all this for promotion
Y'all elevator goin' down and everybody knows it
According to the lie detect, who gon' sign the check?
Y'all better hit the streets
Ask your label and they look at y'all n*ggas in disbelief
Y'all better stick to kissin' feet 'fore I crack your grill
I hate a b*tch n*gga that'll settle for a Happy Meal
Have your b*tch attracted to the daddy skills
Pass it on but I crashed into 'em with the caddy steel
f*ck these n*ggas
We already won, onto the next round
Y'all stagnant, already paralized from the neck down
Tryna battle us with the tech style
Why try n*gga? Bodied by the high n*gga
Didn't know I was battlin' the do or die n*ggas
f*ck Horsesh*t G.A.N.G. in 20-15, n*gga
Yeah y'all buried alive already, f*ck y'all
Sleep in your casket tonight, n*gga
Don't step out of your league no more, n*gga
Get some fans before you try to get in a rap battle, f*ckboy
FV 20-15, n*gga